Silence
by N. E. Won
Summary: Draco really really tries to be nice. It's harder than people make it out to be.


Prompt: "I'm not scared of you. I've no reason to be."

The only noise heard in the Heads' Compartment of the Hogwarts Express was the steady motion of the train. Draco Malfoy fiddled with his green and silver tie and tried to ignore the mounting tension in the air.

Another noise. This time, it was the swift turn of a page. He looked up and eyed the girl sitting on the other end of the compartment. Hermione Granger had yet to say one word to him. Since she entered, she had only nodded a curt hello. For some reason, that bothered him. Was he not worthy of real "hello"? He cursed inwardly. Of course, he knew the answer to that one. Nevertheless, he still wanted a little something from her.

"Are you ever going to do anything about that hair of yours?" he started. Shit. He meant to say something nice.

She looked up. If looks could kill...

He decided to try again. "I mean, it's always so bushy." God, what's wrong with him? Why can't he say anything to her that didn't include an insult?

"Are you ever going to do anything about that attitude of yours?" she countered, eyes still trained on the page. Her voice was steady and hard, as if she was trying to keep her temper in check. She crossed and uncrossed her legs. Something was bothering her, Draco could see.

Silence. It lasted for what seemed like forever. Her countenance was upsetting him, and he could clearly see she had stopped reading, as she had yet to turn the page. This wasn't how he wanted to start off the term. He sat still as he tried and failed to think of something welcoming to say that didn't require him to surrender his dignity.

"Do I make you uncomfortable?" He didn't mean for his tone to sound amused, but it did. Before he could tell himself to shut up, he started up again. "Don't tell me you're scared of me?" He smirked despite his better judgement. He watched as her head snapped up and wondered if she was using a spell to make that fire in her eyes appear brighter.

"Listen now and listen well, _Malfoy_ ," she spat. Her voice, dangerously low, had him involuntarily leaning in towards her side of the compartment, as though his body didn't want him to miss a single word that escaped her lips. "I'm not scared of you. I've no reason to be."

Well then. He hadn't meant to insult her Gryffindor pride.

"What are you reading?" Now _that_ was better. Proud of himself, he could feel his mouth fighting to smile.

"Why do _you_ want to know?" she replied. A few seconds went by before she turned the page; she was reading again.

Draco let out a defeated sigh and sat back against the seat. He looked out the window and rested his chin in his hand. The beautiful Scottish landscape, once fogged with the gloom of looming dementors, was now bathed in sunlight. Draco wanted that sunlight.

"I'm reading _1984_ ," he heard a voice say. He turned to look at Hermione. To his surprise, the tiniest hint of a smile graced her visage.

"I've never heard of it," he said, genuinely intrigued.

"I wouldn't expect you to be familiar with it," she sighed. "In the wizarding world, only a _mudblood_ like me would read it."

Draco didn't like the way she emphasized "mudblood," and cringed. Another minute passed before Draco said something. "I don't think like that anymore." His voice was soft and quiet, even to his own ears. At first, he wasn't sure if she heard him or not, but then she scoffed.

"I find it hard to believe that someone could change just like that." She snapped her fingers for emphasis.

"I did not change 'just like that'," he stated. He could feel his voice grow louder, but he was already too irritated to keep it down. "Over the years, it was all about pleasing father and making him proud." Incensed and lost in his words, he stood up and made the short distance to Hermione's seat.

She glared up at him, refusing to cower.

"Now look where it's got me!" he bellowed. "Father's in Azkaban. Mum's in a right state..."

Hermione's glare disappeared. There was something in her eyes that he couldn't define. She tentatively reached for his hand. Once he felt her soft skin, he immediately identified the look.

Angry, he pulled his hand back. "I don't need your pity." Despite his disdain, his palm tingled with pleasure. They sat in the train in silence. When Draco's hand felt normal again, he realized he wanted to hold her hand again. Shocked at this thought, he decided to distract himself with conversation; the silence was making him crazy. "Tell me about the book."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Malfoy, but last time I checked, I didn't take orders from you."

He groaned. He really needed to start learning how to be nice. Even he, himself, knew kindness wasn't his strong suit. "Please, can you tell me about the book?"

There it was. That light in her eyes. That smile that could only be brought on at the subject of books. "I thought you would never ask." She launched into a synopsis, then her own personal opinions about the book. She spoke of a bloke called Winston. She went on (and on) about how much she disliked, though tolerated, a Julia. An O'Brien came into the mix. But if Draco was really honest with himself, he'd admit he wasn't really listening. Well, he was listening to her voice, just not the content. As she went on, her eyes lit up even more.

Draco smiled. This was exactly how he wanted to start the term. And maybe this year wouldn't be so bad.


End file.
